Mrs Lovett's Daughter
by MCR Lurver
Summary: Shortly after her husband died, Mrs. Lovett gave birth to a daughter. After only weeks together, the baby was taken away, never to be seen again. But when Benjamin Barker comes home, Mrs. Lovett becomes determined to find her child, and get her life back.
1. The Worst Pies in London

**Author's Notes: Yay! New story! If you've read my other stories, good for you; if you haven't, go and read!! **

**I'm not including any singing in this story. And I'm not sticking exactly to the dialogue, either. It's going to be a mix of the movie and the original production. **

**I'm also going to be adding characters, and changing the plot line a little bit. But you knew that was coming, didn't you? To me, Toby didn't seem right as a young boy, so my Toby is going to be around 16 or 17. Don't like it? Too bad.**

**So here you go! **

**Chapter 1:**

Nellie Lovett sighed as she stared longingly out of the grimy window of her pie shop. It was already past midday, and she had not seen a single customer. But she was used to this by now. After all, her pies were often referred to as the "worst pies in London" around Fleet Street.

Mrs. Lovett tore her eyes away from the goings-on out in the street, and turned her attention back to the pies that were sitting on the counter in front of her. Their smell still bothered her after all these years. "No 'onder nobody comes in 'ere," she muttered to herself, pounding some fresh dough on the counter.

She looked back out of the window then, and glanced across the street, and a little ways to the left. Near the end of the street was Mrs. Mooney's pie shop. Mrs. Mooney happened to be standing outside of her shop just now, greeting customers, and ushering them inside. She looked over to Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, and gave a little wave, smiling smugly. Mrs. Lovett glared, then waved, and smiled fakely back, but her eyes remained cold and icy. As soon as Mrs. Mooney turned her back, Mrs. Lovett stopped smiling, and her glare returned.

"That insufferable woman," she muttered, grabbing hold of her butcher's knife. "The nerve of kill'n them pussy cats as meat!" She slammed the knife down into the dough so hard that it stuck into the counter. She looked down and blinked at it, then shrugged, and grabbed another hunk of dough and started kneading it. "I'd be right to tell everyone what she's been put'n in them pies…"

Just then the bell above the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of a customer. Mrs. Lovett glanced up to see a man entering the shop. The poor fellow looked rather confused and lost. This was probably his first time in London, and he knew nothing of the reputation of her pies. This was good.

"A customer!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed. The bloke took a step back. "Oh, come off it, dearie," she cooed. "I don' bite. And you looks like you could use somethin' to eat." She looked up into the man's face, taking in his pale complexion, his sunken eyes, his untrusting stare. There was something eerily familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Come on. Sit down, dear. Right over there, that's it," she said, leading the mad over to the table in the corner of her shop.

The man slumped into the seat, and rested his elbows on the table. Mrs. Lovett felt his gaze on her as she went around the counter to fetch him a pie. "There you are, love," she said, sliding a plate across the table at him. "A nice lovely pie for you." She smiled at him. "Eat up, now."

The man continued to stare at her for a few more seconds, then he glanced down at the pie in front of him. Mrs. Lovett smiled at the man, then she walked back to the counter, and started working on another batch of pies.

After a few seconds, she looked up at the man. There was something familiar about him… The man the cautiously picked his pie up, and sniffed it. His nose wrinkled, and he dropped it back onto the plate. He glanced up at Mrs. Lovett, and his eyes looked as though they were speaking to her, saying to ignore his reaction, and that the pie was really good. He then proceeded to take a bite, a shudder running through his body as he did so. Then he looked back up at her, then same expression on his face, only now his mouth was full of pie that he dared not swallow.

Then a thought hit Mrs. Lovett. Hadn't the bloke who had lived about the shop looked at her like that? But, no, it couldn't be. He had been shipped off to Australia for life. But those eyes…

Mrs. Lovett suddenly snapped out of her thoughts, and turned back to her customer. "Oh, spit it out, dear," she said, bustling over to the table. "Right there on the floor's fine. There's worse things than that down there." The man spit his mouthful out on the floor, and made a face of disgust. He looked up at Mrs. Lovett, and smiled weakly at her. She could see his mouth moving slightly, attempting to get the taste f the meat pie to go away.

"How 'bout a drop of ale for 'ya?" Mrs. Lovett asked. The mad nodded his head, and she walked back over to the counter. She reached for a mug, looked into it, and noticed a thick layer of dust congregated on the bottom, She blew into the mug, making most of the dust vanish. She then filled it up with some ale, and walked back over to the man.

He gulped down the ale quickly, then looked back up at Mrs. Lovett, the weak smile still on his face. That smile was so familiar… This man couldn't possibly be the same one who had lived above her shop. What was his name? Then it all came flooding back into her brain. Benjamin Barker, the barber, had lived upstairs. Him and his wife and little daughter. How could she have forgotten him? She always had a soft spot for him in her heart.

Mrs. Lovett was brought back to reality by the man coughing, "Oh, dearie, the ale won't do much for that 'orrible taste. Why don't you come back into me parlor, and I'll give you some gin. She gestured for the man to follow her, which he did. Mrs. Lovett could still feel his gaze on her back as they walked. Could this man really be Benjamin Barker? The man she had longed to notice her for so long would do nothing but look at her now. Mrs. Lovett was determined to find out who he was.


	2. Mr Todd

**Author's Notes: Yay, 2 updates in one day!!! I probably won't have time during the week to update much, but there might be some random day where I don't get a lot of homework. But that's not likely to happen anytime soon…**

**Chapter 2:**

"Nice spot of gin for 'ya," Mrs. Lovett said, handing a glass to the man who she was sure was Benjamin Barker. "Drink up, now."

The man nodded his head in thanks upon receiving the glass, and took a sip. Mrs. Lovett smiled as she watched him do so. Her smile than broadened as she saw him sneak a glance at the staircase that lead to the room above her shop.

"Isn't that a room up there?" the man asked as Mrs. Lovett turned to put the gin away. "If times are so hard, why don't you rent that out? Should bring in something."

Mrs. Lovett beamed, still facing away from her guest. This is him! It had to be. She let out a deep breath, and composed herself before turning around. "No 'on'll go near it," she said. "People think it's 'aunted. You see, something 'appened up there years ago. Something not very nice…" The man leaned forward in his seat and placed his glass down on the end table. "A barber and 'is family lived up there," Mrs. Lovett said, seating herself in the chair opposite him. "Benjamin Barker, 'is name was." As she said this, the man's eyes seemed to flash red for a moment. "He and his wife and daughter. Johanna… that was the baby's name. Pretty little Johanna…"

"Go on," the man growled. His eyes stared intently at Mrs. Lovett.

"But Benjamin Barker, oh, he was shipped off for life. Down to bloody Australia, or whatever, leaving his wife and daughter all alone. His wife was a silly little thing. Couldn't do anything on her own, even when her 'usband was there."

"What was his charge?" the man interrupted.

Mrs. Lovett blinked at him. "Foolishness…" she said, looking into the man's eyes. They burned bright with hatred again. "There was this judge, you see, love. Judge Turpin, his name is. He fancied Mr. Barker's wife. He'd send 'er a flower everyday. But that silly girl didn't know what to do. They was run'in out of money. Did she use her head even then? Oh, no, God forbid!" Mrs. Lovett said, rolling her eyes. "'Course, that judge wouldn't give up that easily, no, sir. He sent his Beatle to 'er house one night, say'n she had to come see the judge, and than it was really import'an…" Her voice trailed away. "Well, after that, they came for the baby. Not too long after that, I 'eared rumors that the girl 'ad gone bonkers. Wouldn't be too long 'for she ended up in bedlam. Then one day I runs into her at the market. She tells me that she was 'gonna poison 'erself. I tells her no, 'an to think of the baby, but it was no use. Not even a week later, I hears she's gone and done it."

"No!" the man yelled, jumping out of his chair, his eyes blazing brighter than ever. "No!"

"So it is you, Benjamin Barker," Mrs. Lovett whispered, staring at his menacing figure that towered over everything in her parlor.

"Not Barker," he growled, his burning eyes staring into her dark chocolate ones, "Todd, now. Sweeney Todd."

"So changed…" Mrs. Lovett said. "What did they do to you in Australia?"

But he didn't seem to hear her. "Lucy…" Mr. Todd whispered, falling back down into his chair. "Fifteen years… Fifteen years of dreaming that I might come home to a loving wife and child…"

"You see," Mrs. Lovett chimed in, "that's what I tells her. I says you'd be home some day, and there's no reason to poison herself. But she didn't listen." Mrs. Lovett shook her head, and cast her eyes down to the floor.

"And my daughter?" Mr. Todd asked. "Where is Johanna?"

"Johanna?" Mrs. Lovett said, looking back up, a frightened expression on her face. "Well… he's got 'er now."

"He?"

Mrs. Lovett gulped. "Judge Turpin," she whispered.

Mr. Todd let out another angry growl. "His time will come. Him and his Beatle. I will have them…"

"You?" Mrs. Lovett asked, looking perplexed. "You 'gonna get him? You poor thing!" she laughed. "Haha! You poor thing! It won't happen, dearie, trust me, it won't." She stopped. "Hey, 'ave you got any money?" Mr. Todd just glared at the floor. "Listen to me, 'ave you got any money?"

"No, no money," Mr. Todd said.

"Then 'ow will you live?" she asked.

"I'll live," he said, "if I have to sweat in the sewers, or in the plague hospital…"

"No, you won't," Mrs. Lovett said after a few seconds of thoughtful silence. "'Ow 'bout I gives you the room about me shop? After all, it is really yours." She stopped. Mr. Todd looked up to see her face breaking into a smile. "Come with me," she said. "I've got something for you."


	3. Abigail

**Author's Notes: Yay! Another chapter!!! **

**Oh, and if you are so blunt that you cannot tell that I DO NOT OWN SWEENEY TODD, go smash your head against a large tree several times.**

**Chapter 3:**

Mrs. Lovett coughed as she stepped inside the room above her shop. She had disturbed the thick layers of dust that covered everything when she opened the door. "'Ere we are," she said, glancing back at Mr. Todd. "Sorry 'bout all the dust. I've not been up 'ere since they came to take Johanna." She fell silent then, casting her eyes down. Mr. Todd continued to stare at her.

"I tried to stop 'em, I did," Mrs. Lovett said, looking up, eyes starting to tear up. "But no one would listen to me. No, I was just the woman from the pie shop downstairs." Her voice started to crack. "I was just the woman who's 'usband 'ad just died… and who 'ad just 'ad…" Tears were streaming down her face now. Mr. Todd started at her, a frightened expression on his face. He awkwardly walked over and patted her on the back. Mrs. Lovett buried her head into his shoulder.

"Why are you crying?" he asked awkwardly. "What's wrong?"

"Abigail," Mrs. Lovett sobbed. "They took my girl."

"Who?" Mr. Todd asked, really confused now.

"I don' know," Mrs. Lovett said, looking up into Mr. Todd's eyes. "When they came to take Johanna away, I came up 'ere to try to stop 'em. But the judge's men wrestled 'er away from me. Then I falls 'an 'its me 'ead on the table. Before I passed out, I sees them sweep up Johanna and my little Abby. When I wakes up, they're gone. She buried her head back into Mr. Todd's shoulder. "That 'orrible man! Taken a baby from a woman what done him no 'arm!" Her words came out slightly muffled.

Mr. Todd continued to pat her on the back, and gave her a small hug. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Now I can understand your anger towards the judge. I just… pushed it all out of me brain, I suppose. It's just be'in up 'ere reminded me of that day." Mrs. Lovett pulled back from Mr. Todd. "I sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to get like this. I mostly just tells myself that she wasn't mine, and that none of this ever 'appened. I just don't think about 'er. I means, she was only a few weeks old then; probably no older than two months…" she paused to wipe her eyes on her apron. "Well, let's see to what we came up 'ere for," she said, regaining her composure.

Mrs. Lovett walked over near the big slanted window. Mr. Todd watched her with interest. What a strange woman Mrs. Lovett was. She certainly had changed a lot in those fifteen years. But after losing her husband, and then child for no reason, what else could be expected of her? Mrs. Lovett bent down, and knocked on a few floor boards. She seemed satisfied with one and pried it up. Mr. Todd walked over next to her as she pulled something out of the hole.

Mr. Todd squatted down next to Mrs. Lovett as she carefully unwrapped something that looked like a box. She looked up and smiled as she did so. She looked slightly deranged with the tears still streaming down her face. "I kept these," she whispered. "I could 'ave sold them, but I didn't." She started to laugh. "I 'ad always 'oped that you would come 'ome someday," she said, "so I 'id 'em when they came for Johanna."

Mr. Todd watched as she opened the lid of the box. His eyes widened when he saw what it contained. "My razors," he whispered, hesitantly reaching for one. His pale face seemed to glow as he examined it.

"'An that's good silver, mind you," Mrs. Lovett said, watching Mr. Todd's face. "Would 'ave fetched a good price at the market."

Mr. Todd flipped open the razor that he was holding. In shined brilliantly in the light from the window. Mrs. Lovett watched as a smile spread across Mr. Todd's face. "I can't believe they're still 'ere," he whispered, pushing himself out of his crouching position. "My faithful friends…"

Mrs. Lovett sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm your friend too," she, whispered, knowing that Mr. Todd wouldn't hear her. "I'm you're friend," she repeated a little louder, a single tear dripping down to the floor.


End file.
